Bear's Den: "Political Correctness Causes... 'Caddiness'"
Now, when I say ´caddy´, I don´t mean that little dude that drags your gulf clubs around, either. Nah, I´m talking about a different kind of cad here. And, I´m looking at this from a traditional American Indian male´s point of view, so other guys may not see it the same – if you follow? But, when women are called ´catty´, the definition means kind of feline, since they´re more feminine than say… your standard model #302 dog, eh. Now a dog – like an elene (man) is usually up-front and aggressive in any actions he may take. Yep, that´s why some guys are called ´dogs´, or maybe even a ´wolf´, eh.
But an equiwa (woman) is usually more like your regular kitty. They´re a lot more subtle and stealthy in their presentations. And, like spatting cats, whenever women are referred to as being catty, it´s usually when they´re fuss´n with one another or being spiteful and mean-spirited between themselves. Guys usually secretly smile at this. But, we fellas have our own form of disrepute, and that´s when we act like a cad or caddish, aka: caddy. Um-hmm but women, well… they don´t usually grin at this… know what I mean? A cad, according to its old English origin, is usually considered to be an ill-bred man who does not behave in a gentlemanly manner towards others. Yes´um, and I´ve been accused of being this, but what can I say? I sometimes just can´t help it.
It usually happens when something strikes me funny in a public place. For instance, years ago, back when the Punk Rock phenomena hit the scene, a lot of kids, and even adults, too, got right into it. So it was that I´d be in line at some store, and a guy, girl, man or woman would walk up behind me, sporting some bizarre hair style. When I finally happened to notice them, a sudden and insuppressible laugh or smile would often escape me. That´s because: #1. It wasn´t Halloween, and #2. Their head might be half florescent lime green and half florescent raving pink, with all of the strands standing straight-up, like they´d stuck their finger in a light socket. When I emitted a snicker, they´d sometimes get miffed and ask, "You gotta problem?" And through censored chuckles, I´d reply, while looking at their head, "Nah… I´m thinking you´re probably the one with a trouble, eh." And thus according to definition, this behavior made me a cad.
Well… maybe so. But, the fact remains that this handicap was one that these folks had actually brought on themselves. Their looks weren´t due to being born that way – nah. The Creator didn´t bring them onto the Earth Mother look´n like this. And it wasn´t any misfortune, either. They didn´t accidently get electrocuted – nope. They just applied this hair-do to themselves… all… on their own. They made themselves look this way – on purpose. Now, I´m just a beat-up old Indian, and not a new age guru. Therefore, I´m appreciative of the basic model of human two-legged. And heck, ´their look´ just struck me as funny. That´s not my fault, eh. Sure, sure, political correctness means that you´re supposed to accept any and all things that two-leggeds do. But for an old guy like me, therein lies just one of the many problems with the form: ´politicking rightness´.
I mean, even in instances like this, I can give a form of acceptance. Heck… I didn´t knock them down and forcibly shave their heads or anything... ya know? And besides, turn-about is supposed to be fair play… isn´t it? If they have the right to make me snicker then shouldn´t I have the right to think that somebody´s self-made hairstyle is funny-looking? Ah well… with today´s PC, that´s not the case. I remember when the young men started wearing their pants down around their knees. I think this is supposed to be a ´Rapper´ inspired deal, but I ain´t sure. Just the same, one of the first times I ever saw a kid wearing a nice shirt, shoes and clean underwear… with his pants hanging almost down to his ankles, I chuckled out loud at the silliness of it. Yep, and neetanetha (my daughter) of the same age as the boy with his drawers near his ankles, was with me at the time. And when I snickered, she got mad and called me… a cad.
So see? Political correctness is usually a one-way deal nowadays. Fads come and go and I sure wish this P.C. thing would take a hike. Jeeze, I remember back in the 1960´s when every young guy wanted to own a pair of pointy-toed "Beatle Boots". You bet, and with me in the 1970´s, it was all about platform shoes, too. Uh-huh, and I remember the first time my old uncle ever saw me wearing a pair. His face broke into a wide grin and he stopped the porch swing to lean forward and look at them. He said, "Ya know, the last time I saw a feller a´wear´n shoes that high… he was a stepping careful, a waaaay up yonder, and a hawking "The Bearded Lady". He chuckled as he studied my Dance-Fever kicks and asked, "You fix´n own be´n a carnie, son?"
Yep, that´s what he said, alright. But my inner kid was just fine. I knew that he was referencing stilts at a carnival by comparing them to my shoes and I sure didn´t take offense. I mean, he wasn´t no new-age guru. Heck, he was just a beat-up old Southern Indian, and pretty much just being… caddy.
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David Walks-As-Bear is an Inter-Tribal Elder and Kispoko Shawnee Indian. He works as a private game warden and detective and is a novelist and syndicated newspaper columnist living in Northwest Michigan. Contact him at The White Lake Beacon: 231-894-5356 or visit his website at: www.Walks-As-Bear.com